After my class at the Alliance Francaise, I walked over to Rue Daguerre. It would be a last look as it was time to move on to Marguerite Duras. I went a different route and found my way up Rue de la Gaite filled with theaters and maybe 20 creperies. Pourquoi?
I came upon Rue Daguerre at the very end where it butts against Avenue du Maine. I had read there was a cinema devoted to Agnes Varda, Cine-Tamaris, close by. At least I could get inside and see what they had to offer. I found the right number but the building was shut tight. As I glanced down the street, there she was, Ms. Varda, carrying her groceries. I became so excited I hardly had time to hit my phone in time to capture her image.
To get stay close to her, I ate at the Vietnamese restaurant next to the building she had entered. I had a beer and a good pho.
I wasn’t ready to leave her, so I went across the street to a vegan tea cafe and sat outside with bergomot tea. The air was just the right temperature, cool but not cold, the sun warmed my feet. Je suis content.
Then came the doubts.
I had hoped this experiment of looking for three women artists I admired would inform, enrich, but maybe I was nothing more than a zealous fan, invasive and intrusive. I published the photo I took of Agnes Varda on Instagram but regret my actions. To take her photo where she can expect to have it taken, in the lobby of IFC, passes muster, but snapping a photo where she expects privacy does not. Perhaps this is why some tribes believe a photograph captures the soul.
I walked home through Cimitiere Montparnasse looking for Marguerite Duras. I searched up and down the designated row but no success. Am I being punished?